


The Shadows Between

by Ghostwriter (Zoya_Zalan)



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:29:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya_Zalan/pseuds/Ghostwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despair haunts a Jedi Master.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shadows Between

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: George Lucas owns all things Star Wars; I'm just borrowing. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Acknowledgments: Many thanks to Claude and Laura for their insightful comments and suggestions! As always, I can't resist tinkering, so any mistakes in the final draft are entirely my own.
> 
> Written around November 2003.

~ * ~ * ~

Stripping my dirty, torn clothing off lifts none of the weight from my shoulders. The physical reminders of our failed mission are nothing compared to the inconsolable grief I bear inside. Death has been our constant companion for months now. Alastare Prime, Horath... and now Vegar; it's the same wherever we're sent. Something is happening. We all sense it, yet the Force remains silent. Darkness encroaches from all sides of the galaxy, and it is very, very powerful. A cunning predator, it studies its prey and corners it slowly so as to generate as much fear as possible.

Fear and death.

I'm covered with its scent, thick and putrid. I need to cleanse myself, to wash this sharp sense of dread from my skin. I can feel bile churning in my stomach as I slip through a side door in our small room into the antechamber of the communal showers. We didn't even make it as far as our quarters after the Council debriefing, stopping instead at the auxiliary chambers reserved for weary Jedi returning from the field. Weary, indeed. I feel like I've died a thousand deaths, only to be condemned to live each time.

Obi-Wan is already there when I arrive, standing underneath one of the showers on the far wall. The sight of him causes me to stop and stare. The water cascades down his body as though it were a living thing, touching him so gently and washing away the atrocities until nothing but Light is left. And it is beautiful. _He_ is beautiful.

I drink in his body with my gaze, from the familiar features of his face to the wet braid that trails down his chest, through the light sprinkling of hair which disappears on the smooth planes of his stomach only to reappear once more in a tantalizing line below his navel leading down to his genitalia. He is partially erect, I see, his body probably aroused from the sheer joy of having hot water after so many weeks in the damp darkness of hell. But Obi-Wan is not embarrassed, it seems; either that or he is unaware of his body's response. Or of me watching. He smiles as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back into the spray of the water to rinse his hair.

He is so beautiful, so full of life. So different than the dying people I held in my arms as they passed from this world to the next. I felt so helpless and overwhelmed, powerless to do anything but offer a compassionate touch at their darkest hour. And it just wasn't enough. Not for them or for me...

Swallowing back a lump, I force myself to move. The wet floor under my feet offers the promise of absolution as I step down into the main shower area. But before my sluggish brain registers what I've done, I am standing before my apprentice, my fingers just barely touching his shoulder. Obi-Wan reacts calmly, wiping the water from his eyes. The smile that had captivated me so much smooths away, replaced by a look of genuine concern.

Am I that transparent in my vulnerability? Apparently so.

Reaching out, he takes me by the hand and guides me into the water with him where I am immediately gathered into a strong embrace. It doesn't matter that I smell of death or that my heart is in tatters. It doesn't even matter that I'm incapable of controlling my grief enough to find my center; he holds me anyway. And I hold him back, my awareness narrowing until all that matters is the feel of him in my arms and the sheltering water which cascades over us.

After a few minutes of this joyful connection I feel Obi-Wan's hands shift behind me. He's brought something solid and slippery to my back. Soap. My mind reels as he begins to clean me, marveling at the depth of the gesture. I don't resist. Is this truly the same young man I took as my padawan learner all those years ago? Anger has given way to serenity, to peace, to compassion so great that it's no wonder the Light shines so brightly within him.

I watch with admiration as he washes my arms and then my hands, giving each of my fingers equal attention. My chest is gently scrubbed, as are my face, my neck, my hair, and much of the rest of my body all the way down to my toes. Only then does Obi-Wan mould himself against my back and reach around to do what truly leaves me stunned beyond comprehensible thought. He cradles me, with the intention of washing, yes, but his touch tells another story. And as his hands move with what can only be practiced ease, spreading soap and warmth, my body responds eagerly to the gentle attention. I can feel him smile as he nuzzles my shoulder, alternating between kisses and teasing caresses with his nose and tongue.

Obi-Wan is no innocent, then. That shouldn't surprise me, but for some reason it does, causing my arousal to swell. Within moments, I am achingly hard. I draw in a single, shuddering breath before releasing it along with all my grief. It's time to wake from this numbing haze and embrace life once more.

Covering his hands with my own, I aid him in pleasuring me. I look down to watch as one stroke leads to another and then another. But before he can drive me further toward the edge I disengage both of us from this blessed act so that I can turn and pull him into my arms. His bright eyes sparkle with delight as our gazes meet for the first time as lovers. I only hesitate a moment before leaning down to kiss him. He is so unbearably eager, soft, pliant lips offering me everything that he is. Our tongues mate together slowly, mimicking the dance that we both know will soon happen. Some things are simply inevitable.

We move as one though we continue to plunder each other's mouths, leaving the warmth of our shower behind as we slowly maneuver toward the dressing area. Our nearness to the wall activates the other showers one by one, each spray of hot water washing away all traces of soap and uncertainty. It's time to live again, to begin anew.

Together.

My newfound awareness blurs once more, only this time it is passion which governs my thoughts and actions. There is a table beside us suddenly, filled with clean towels which make excellent cushions when I hoist Obi-Wan up and deposit him there in an aroused heap. I'm on him in an instant, nipping and sucking, listening intently to the litany of words and sounds he uses to encourage me. He jolts physically when I wrap my hand around his hardness and proceed to stroke him with determination, but his attempts to slow things down do nothing to dissuade me. We have no lubrication, and I will not hurt this precious man. He is young; he will recover much more quickly than I.

Smothering his breathless moans with another kiss, I hold him close until he finally comes, his whole body jerking and shuddering beautifully. He is still mewling with pleasure when I finally release his lips, though the sounds quickly melt into something more intense as I scoop some of the semen from his chest and use it to gently penetrate him, first with one finger and then two. He is so beautiful like this, writhing and pressing against me, his eyes shining with a passion I thought I would never be privileged to see. Three fingers are inside him now, moving easily, and Obi-Wan begs me to hurry with both words and body. I rise, my gaze never leaving his as I smear the rest of his seed on my shaft. He pulls his legs up, giving me complete access, and in an instant I am lost inside him, sliding and stretching oh-so-slowly until there is no way to tell where one of us ends and the other begins.

Sounds I've not heard myself utter in many years now rush forward, spilling from my lips as I rock into my new lover. So tight. So hot... He wants this faster, harder. His hands are like brands against the skin of my back, pulling me closer, and then they are everywhere else, caressing my face and chest, tweaking my nipples and tickling my sides... He is driving me wild and he knows it.

The joints of the table squeak in raucous counterpoint to the rhythm of our lovemaking and I am only dimly aware of any potential danger from collapse. There are towels strewn about on the floor as well, though I could have sworn they were all on the table when we started. None of that matters. Not now. Not as I watch my lover's expression change from playful joy to absolute wonder as his body ascends toward climax once more. His breathing is harsh and he scrabbles to pull me closer still. I reach for his member, squeezing and tugging as he begins to wail and I am right there with him, our bodies bucking in unison until we both let loose with cries so loud that I am certain what's happening here must be readily apparent to every Force-sensitive being within a parsec.

The first thing I hear when I finally regain my senses is the sound of soft laughter. In my ear. I am lost in yet another embrace with my padawan and he is rubbing my back, laughing. His amusement is infectious, and before long I too am laughing against his neck as I hug him right back. The dull grayness that had surrounded me and numbed my senses for so long is completely gone. In its place swirls the brilliance of the Force that I know and love, a connection reaffirmed, untainted with tendrils of Darkness. I now know and understand what I couldn't before, what was kept from me, hidden behind the grief and frustration. No matter what happens, no matter how close the Darkness gets or how much suffering we are forced to witness or endure, everything is as it should be.

And everything will be all right.

~ * ~ finis ~ * ~


End file.
